Its frenzied journey commenced when it left its home, the snow-fed rugged mountains, flowing down the serene pine-clad hills. The river rejoiced, gurgled, and sang
Author: Mumtaz N Khorakiwala
Batool Idrish Siamwala, pens under her maiden name, Mumtaz N Khorakiwala. She has served as an Asst. Prof. in English Language & Literature in St. Joseph’s College, Visakhapatnam, for nearly a decade. She went back to Creative Writing; she writes on online forums like Poets Inc and Artoons Inn Poetry Parlour and is a blogger on Momspresso.
To do Nothing
To do nothing, how often, I have tried But my inquisitive mind won’t sit tight Jumpy, like a chipmunk, if it’d only abide. Thoughts play
Rise With the Lark
Me work is a strange and gruellin’ wahn.I must brave the Thames tides, walk the path of Peggy Jones, though I know they call’d ‘er
In Search of Abbajan
Hira Mandi 2008 This afternoon, everyone at the kotha, including me, is irked by a reporter, but we can’t get rid of him. The long
Childhood’s Alchemy
Vessels of innocence, Empty, yet filled to brim-Such sweetness hast childhood!Small joys and pleasures fillEyes of children, as ifLost in the fairy realm. Often children teach
When Autumn’s Amber Fades
Over the horizon birds disappear, the evening’s a glimmer now. The sinking sun drops into Night’s inky bed. Faint footfall fades, a lull fills the
Shunned Trinkets
Today, you’re seven seas away, my dear. And I remember that day when you left My eyes shone -blinked away tears of pride, sheer. A
Once Upon a Day
Once upon a day, in another time Grandpa thought there was only truth. No rogues, charlatans and crime And philosophers like Socrates in sooth, An
Time’s Pantomime
How gently the river flows leaving us behind! We stand beside the Ganges, boatswains remind Of the ebb and flow of centuries….Ah Time Fleet-footed, presents
Serendipity
That walk up the hills offered a breathtaking view A vantage point from where ours eyes beheld, A tiny hamlet in the palms of a
The Melancholy Lover’s Rant
What is memory but artifice? Schwärmerei in family albums. Solitaire’s looped golden glint, in velvet, Nestled. A gift thrust carelessly; Gestures to blur boundaries of
Binding Vines
Moments stolen on cobbled streets Mists veil our caresses, Hunger. Rapturous nights, telltale heart beats Mysterious wedded bliss Stung her. In a shrouded sheet, they
As Into a Slumber She Sank
the stars in her eyes vanished, a stillness touched our abode as into a slumber she sank. was it the wintery wail, or just the
Stray Thoughts
Today, I stood beside his windowpane, Silk sheers rustled, and the moon stopped to glow Through the pall, highlighting the bloody stain. My heart whispered,
Reading Blues
I wondered how reading fiction would help, Miss Carmichael glared down her specs “Oh missy mind you now, do you need a skelp Dunnae’ be
Potter’s Clay
I was potter’s clay, remember O Mahiwal, that day How the fragrance of your breath filled mine, Your eyes were sheer wine, from that moment